Chapter 156: 156. The Will (3)

“You should thank me.”

Gorvax’s voice carried no arrogance. Just fact.

“For the celestials.”

Owen’s scales tightened. “You erased them too”

“From a lesser being’s eyes it must’ve looked like that, but that battle tired be out immensely… It was not as easy as erasing my creations or sealing those other purple beings” The Sower’s robed form drifted closer, the space between them shrinking. “…Those beings you call your Arbiter, your angels, your so-called gods—were cosmic vagrants. Tier 5, five stars. Some barely Tier 4, one star at best. They drift through lesser worlds, claim divinity, feed on worship like parasites.”

Owen’s jaw clenched. His claws scraped against each other.

“They maintained themselves.” Gorvax’s featureless face somehow conveyed dismissal. “A celestial does not create like most lesser worlds believe they do. Does not nurture. Does not sacrifice. It consumes belief, converts faith into power, and moves on when the world’s spirit breaks.”

“Your world’s celestials were preparing to harvest your species. Not through death but through eternal servitude. A perpetual worship engine. When I Fought them off, I saved you from a fate worse than extinction.”

Owen’s fire cooled. Not because he believed. But Because Gorvax’s words carried the weight of someone who had seen this before. Multiple times.

“So what? You want my gratitude huh?.”

“I want acknowledgment.” The Sower’s voice hardened. “I made mistakes. The dragons were one. But the celestials were a mercy. Your mortal realms should understand that.”

” And yet, They’ll never know.”

“Then you will carry that knowledge for them. That is the burden of those who see beyond their world’s horizon.”

—

Gorvax floated in silence for a long moment. His robe rippled without wind, the fabric seeming to breathe.

“Your sovereignties should not exist.”

Owen’s eyes narrowed. “And yet, they do.”

“An imitation race that’s a crude copy of Progenitor blood cannot…shouod not grasp cosmic law. It violates the fundamental architecture of reality. Your Dragon King System was bugged system designed to simulate that power, not channel true cosmic authority.”

“And yet, here I am.”

“Yes.” Gorvax’s voice held something unfamiliar. Wonder. Or fear. “Here you are.”

He raised his hand and The pyramid of light reappeared, but this time Owen’s face was at its base—Tier 5, one star—while Gorvax’s silhouette hovered at Tier 4, five stars. Between them, a gulf of power that spanned eons.

“Your existence is a paradox. An error in the cosmic ledger. When the Tribunal audits this sector, they will find you. They will investigate. And when they trace your bloodline back to Progenitor essence, they will not stop at erasure.”

Owen’s claws flexed. The air around his fingers crackled with residual heat.

“They will Unmake your world. Retroactively. As if it never existed. Every life, every memory, every soul, deleted from the timeline.” Gorvax’s voice dropped to barely a whisper. “I have seen it happen. Twice.”

The weight of those words pressed against Owen’s chest like a physical force. His scales felt cold despite the fire in his core.

—

“Like I said, accept my offer. I will mark this world as protected. No gardener will touch it. No celestial will drift near it. The Tribunal’s scans will slide past it, seeing only a barren rock. A dead world not worth their attention.”

“In exchange of me being your travel partner, huh?”

“Yes. come with me. Travel the cosmos. Grow your cosmic rank. Help me ascend beyond Tier 4.” Gorvax paused. “I have been Tier 4 for three hundred millennia by your measure of time. I have seeded hundreds of worlds. Harvested hundreds more. But I cannot break through to Tier 3 with that.”

Owen’s scales rippled. “So, you want me to be weapon.”

“Listen to me! I want a partner! ” Gorvax’s hand lowered. The pyramid of light dissolved into motes that faded into the sky. “I created your race with Progenitor blood! I gave you life! So, what if I destroyed them? I was well within my rights! But…” A long pause. “…I will not make that mistake again.”

“You’re still afraid of me, aren’t you.” Owen smirked.

“I am afraid… of what I do not understand.” The Sower’s voice was quiet, almost human. “…And I do not understand you. Your power. Your growth. Your ability to grasp cosmic law when you should not even perceive it.”

Owen stared at the figure who had erased his species. Who had seeded his world. Who now offered him the stars.

“The Tribunal. How long before they come?”

“Decades in your measure of time. Maybe less. The disturbance from your evolution and development of those sovereignties sent ripples through the cosmic network. They will investigate eventually.”

“Then we don’t have time to argue.”

Gorvax tilted his head. “You agree?”

Owen looked down at Nexus Prime. At the city that had been his home, that had nearly killed him, that had given him Yuki. He thought about the hatchlings. About Drak’thar. About everything he had built.

“Sure, I agree.”

—

Then He transformed.

His dragon form folded inward—scales receding, mass compressing, wings dissolving into light. When the golden glow faded, he stood in his perfect human form, clothed by the same magic that had learned its lesson months ago. Black pants. Simple shirt. No embarrassing surprises.

He raised his hand. A doorway tore open, a controlled portal with clean edges and stable light. Through it, Drak’thar’s golden radiance spilled into the sky above Nexus Prime.

Gorvax watched. “You already trust me enough to bring me into your personal pocket space ?”

“I trust you to protect your investment.”

The Sower almost laughed. A dry, ancient sound. “Fair.”

Then Owen stepped through the doorway. Gorvax followed.

—

Drak’thar’s air was warm, familiar. The Hatchery pulsed in the distance, its light steady. The gardens bloomed with flowers that had never existed before Owen took the throne. The hatchlings were still curled around Leah’s feet, the training session’s exhaustion still heavy on their small bodies.

Yuki was the first to see him. Her hand moved to her katana as she saw the robed figure behind him.

“Owen.” Her voice was steel wrapped in silk. “Who …what is that?”

Gorvax inclined his head. “An ally… For now.”

Leah’s transformation flickered. The hatchlings stirred, sensing danger. Azure stepped between Odessa and the stranger, her crystalline eyes narrowed, her new form tensed for combat.

Owen raised a hand. “Stand down, everyone”

No one moved.

“He is not our enemy, I promise” Owen said with a dry smile. “Not today, at least. Not anymore”

Yuki’s eyes searched his as She found the acknowledgement in them that made her hand drop from her blade.

“Then what is he?”

Gorvax answered. “A gardener. A sower. And the only thing standing between this world and oblivion.”

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep